heartsick
by kelly.rockwell
Summary: Lydia misses Cora, and that's an understatement. Cora comes back the way she left: without warning.


It was something like a punch in the gut, finding out that Cora had left without so much as a goodbye.

And Lydia isn't sure why it matters, really. They weren't close, had barely scratched the surface of bonding with one another. But maybe that's part of it. Maybe Lydia's thrown because what she thought was a beginning turned out to be an ending.

She's usually better at compartmentalizing than that. Jackson had been a huge part of her life, and when he left it was painful, but she pulled herself up before she could wallow too thoroughly in misery. And, yes, she was noncommittal with relationships after that. She thought she'd keep her heart to herself; had intended to guard it carefully. But wolves are sneaky things, and fast enough to run away with a heart and render all attempts at recovery futile.

Now she spends most of her free time imagining Cora climbing through her bedroom window, and her disappointment when it doesn't happen knocks the breath from her lungs without fail. Or maybe that's just her own surprise at how far she let herself fall.

Lydia doesn't continue to see Aiden. Because it feels like a lie, and she's well aware that it started out as one. And it was wrong, Lydia thinks, that before she ended things with him she would close her eyes against his touch, pretend the hands didn't belong to him. But they could never be soft enough.

She's got other things to focus on. She gets a new textbook, some light reading on string theory, and she convinces Allison with minimal pleading to give her some weapons training. She's distracted enough between that and school that a few months go by, and she's better. There's still an unwanted tug in her chest when someone brings Cora up in casual conversation, but it doesn't hurt like it did. Like it never should've in the first place.

It's late one night, and Lydia can't sleep. She's been staring out her window at a waxing gibbous moon for an hour, eyes refusing to close for longer than a blink. She sighs exasperatedly, flings herself onto her other side.

Her eyes are just starting to drift closed when she hears the slight crackle of her window being nudged open and she jerks up abruptly, turns wide eyes on the figure silhouetted in moonlight as they climb into her bedroom.

"Cora," Lydia says, and it's little more than a whisper, but it's enough.

"I was going to call first," Cora says, stepping closer to the bed with a soft smile on her face. "But I wanted to see _that_ look on your face."

Lydia blinks up at her. It can't be real. It's so close to what she used to imagine in the days after Cora left, so near identical that it has to be in her head. "Am I dreaming?" she finds herself asking, as though her dream would be upfront enough to answer.

Cora chuckles. "Do you make a habit of dreaming about me?"

"I try to avoid it," Lydia says, voice still small and admittedly probably also a little shaky, because it's starting to seem like she's not imagining it. "But you make the odd appearance."

There's a dip in the mattress as Cora sits on the edge of Lydia's bed. Lydia can see each freckle on Cora's nose, dots illuminated by moonlight, and that's not very dreamlike at all. "I'm just taking that as a yes, then," Cora says, watching Lydia intently.

Lydia lets out a slow exhale. "Where have you been?"

Cora huffs out a quiet laugh. "Far away. Traveling with my other pack, the ones who took me in after the fire. I wanted Derek to meet them. It felt important that he meet them."

"Well, he must have liked them, since you've been gone for three months," Lydia says, and if there's an edge of bitterness to her tone, she doesn't feel it's entirely unwarranted.

"He did. It was good. Almost like a family," Cora says, and her eyes drift away from Lydia's, drop to the blanket and seem to gloss over. "But we were both heartsick, so we knew we couldn't stay gone forever."

Lydia thinks she must have misheard part of that. "You mean homesick," she corrects.

"No," Cora says firmly, lifting her gaze to meet Lydia's again. And there's no mistaking the glistening of tears in her eyes. "I mean _heartsick._ And so right now Derek is with Stiles, and I'm-"

"Here," Lydia breathes out, wide eyes trained on Cora like she's still not completely convinced that the girl won't disappear if she blinks.

Cora doesn't say anything, just nods softly.

It takes a moment for Lydia to form a coherent thought, actually, and that's strange. Because Lydia is incredible at thinking under pressure, at compartmentalizing and strategizing and in general being quick to find her voice. And Lydia's not sure if it's the implication of Cora's words or the fact that she's even there saying them at all, but her brain short-circuits and she just stares for a drawn out moment, drinks in her moonlit skin and basks in her gaze until she can't stand it anymore.

"I missed you, too," Lydia says, and it feels like an understatement.

Cora reaches out tentatively and takes one of Lydia's hands in her own. "I'm sorry. I should've-"

"Don't," Lydia cuts her off, because she doesn't want to hear it. It doesn't matter. Cora's here now, and her words are perfect and her touch is soft and that's all Lydia needs to know. "Just come here."

Cora makes a noise that sounds like it might be a whimper, almost, and moves in closer. Lydia wraps her up in a tight hug, closes her eyes contentedly as Cora nuzzles into her hair. "Missed you so much," Cora murmurs, and there's something about the way her voice shakes that makes Lydia think it's an understatement when she says it, too.

Lydia pulls back enough to look at her again, and she thinks she sees it. The same look in Cora's eyes that she must have in her own, and it's jarring and amazing that she put it there.

Lydia smiles softly and leans in slow, presses her lips to Cora's.

And it's indescribably good, the way Cora sighs against her lips and tangles a hand in her hair. They fall into the pillows, kissing languidly and clutching at each other for stability, for grounding.

"Don't ever disappear like that again," Lydia tells her between kisses.

Cora looks both fond and apologetic. "I'm kind of planning on never leaving again," she says.

Lydia bumps their noses softly. "Seconded."

And then Lydia yawns, and Cora looks like she just remembered she left the oven on. "You have school in the morning. You need to sleep."

"Stay with me?" Lydia asks.

Cora encircles Lydia in her arms, tugs her in closer and presses a kiss to her forehead. "I couldn't be anywhere else."

Lydia sighs happily and settles into Cora's embrace, eyes closed and fingers clutching the back of Cora's shirt. Everything about her just feels so _right._ And it really is perfect, she thinks, that the wolf who absconded with her heart has finally returned with it.

It's even more perfect that Lydia intends to let her keep it.


End file.
